To the Isles of You
by runwiththenight
Summary: "It wasn't until she was alone in her new tent that she felt something else in her chest: a hole, a piece missing. The place where her mom should have been, where she should have hugged Raven back, where she wished that Octavia could forgive her. A piece she left behind when she left Bellamy." A fic I started writing after the Season 2 finale. Bellarke af.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a fic I started writing after the Season 2 finale. I'm thinking now it'll be an alternative Season 3 ;P Let me know what you think! I know it's long af but i promise bellarke in the future. 3**

 _You should come to the capital. Polis will change the way you see us._

Part of her wanted to, and for different reasons. Part of her wanted to see the shock on Lexa's face when she found out that Clarke had not only survived, but succeeded.

Part of her wanted to kiss Lexa again.

Part of her, the part that was screaming the loudest, wanted to forget that she had ever met Lexa. The woman who forced her to kill the first boy she ever loved for an alliance that proved to be nothing. The woman that had convinced her to let all those people in TonDC die. No, Clarke knew she would not go to Polis.

She didn't know where she would go.

For now, she simply lay on the floor of the dropship, the hard steel cold against her back as she stared at the ceiling. She couldn't remember exactly how she got here, only that this is where her feet had carried her after she'd walked away from camp.

 _Away from Bellamy,_ she thought, closing her eyes against the keen loss that resonated through her at his name. Bellamy understood what she needed. Maybe that's why he let her go. What he didn't understand was that she was protecting him, too. She couldn't let herself fall in love with him – something that would be inevitable if she stayed. They would have fallen together, and it would be natural, mutual, like everything was with them. But Clarke wasn't the same girl that Bellamy had already started to fall for. She was poison now, the harbinger of death and pain - a monster. Nothing good happened to the people who loved her.

That's why she had to leave, no matter how much it hurt.

It was a sacrifice and a blessing all at once. Right now she was numb, probably because she was so _exhausted,_ but no doubt the pain would return; the memories of all the things she'd done would haunt her endlessly. But being alone was somewhat of a relief. For so long, everyone had counted on her, looked to her to be strong and lead them. At least that weight was off her shoulders.

 _Where will you go?_ He'd asked.

A million options raced through Clarke's mind, each one getting crossed off the list nearly as soon as it appeared.

She couldn't stay here. It was too close, too many memories.

It was the same with the bunker.

The Grounders wouldn't accept her, and even if they did, she couldn't be around them – not after everything that had happened.

She needed shelter, somewhere that was safe but also somewhere new. Somewhere she wasn't Clarke of the Sky People or Clarke the leader, the girl who'd killed Finn, the girl who'd ruthlessly defeated Mount Weather. She just needed to get away.

 _The ocean,_ she thought. That was it. The safety that her and her friends had once looked to. Far enough away that maybe, just maybe, the pain wouldn't follow. She thought of the pictures she'd seen, the descriptions she'd read – warm, salty water, coarse sand under her feet.

A place she could be free.

A whisper of a smile ghosted across her lips at the possibility, the image of a sunset over the water filling her dreams as Clarke drifted off to sleep.

It must have been about twelve hours later that Clarke's screams finally ripped her out of her nightmares. She'd expected as much. She knew the pain wouldn't stay at bay forever, but it still didn't stop the sobs that racked her entire body or her agonized screams, muffled by the jacket she'd used as a pillow.

She saw burning bodies, lifeless children, felt warm blood gushing in contrast to the cold knife she gripped in her hands, Finn's shuddering final breath against her neck. She craved the hollow shell that she had been for the past few weeks and the numbness that protected her from this, but she knew she couldn't have it back.

For what seemed like hours, pain was all she knew. It burned through her until she was nothing else as the weight of all she'd done finally crushed her.

 _I'll just have to learn to live with it,_ she told herself. It seemed impossible, but she dragged herself up and began to gather supplies for her journey. There was a surprising amount left behind in the dropship: a couple knives, a water canteen, an extra shirt, even a pack to carry it all in. A soft breeze stirred Clarke's hair as she stepped out into the cool dawn air. She closed her eyes and breathed it in, taking a moment to revel in fresh air that she had lived her whole life without. It was refreshing and despite all of her pain, Clarke felt a small glimmer of optimism as she followed the sun east towards the sea.

Twelve hours later and that optimism was wholly defeated. Clarke had never believed she could get sick of the beauty of the forest. As an artist, she was drawn to the natural muted tones of the earth and having lived her whole life surrounded by gray walls and artificial blue lights, she had never stopped appreciating the way the sunlight filtered down through the impossibly green leaves.

Until now.

Now, with her legs burning and the soles of her feet screaming at her with every step, sweat all but pouring into her eyes and down her aching back, after she'd spent the entire day passing endless seemingly identical moss covered trunks- now if she never saw another tree again it would be too soon.

Clarke was beginning to question her sanity. What if she'd been traveling in circles for hours? What if none of this was real? What if she was just going to wake up soon, right back where she'd started? She couldn't see the sky. She couldn't see anything but trees and more trees and it was suffocating. She wanted to scream or sprint onward until she was out of this damn forest. But suddenly she came to a steep hill and her desperation wasn't enough to convince her legs to climb it. They gave out underneath her, pulling a strangled cry past her lips as her knees and palms sunk into the moist earth.

Clarke closed her eyes as her breath came in ragged gasps. She pressed her lips together, trying to force controlled breaths through her nose. After a moment she felt more composed, now that her overworked muscles had a chance to relax and the brisk breeze cooled her blazing skin. She savored every breath, relishing in the salty taste of the air as it filled her lungs and-

Salt.

Her eyes snapped open, wide with realization. Hope swelled in her chest as she began to crawl up the hill. Her nails dug desperately into the ground as she pulled herself up, her knees and feet barely finding purchase in the soft dirt. Every few feet she would lose her grip and slip down, scraping her arm against the abrasive branches that littered the forest floor.

But Clarke was a survivor. After everything she'd been through, she wasn't about to let a goddamn hill stop her. She reached the crest with quivering arms and an aching heart, taking a deep breath before she finally pushed herself up and over.

What she saw took her breath away.

It was the ocean. She'd actually made it.

Her first thought was that it was indescribably vast, stretching on forever. She would have believed that the rest of the world was made of water if someone told her. The waves swelled black in the night, glistening with the rippled reflection of the moon that shone above it. The wind howled more strongly now, cold and salty, biting at her exposed flesh.

But Clarke didn't care; it was the most beautiful sight she could have ever imagined.

Her second thought was how much she wished Bellamy was next to her, seeing it with her.

Looking into the distance, she saw the twinkling lights of a village about a mile away. Deciding it would be better to approach in the daylight, Clarke collapsed completely, curling in a ball and finally succumbing to her exhaustion.

" _Al laik Clarke kom sky kru_ ," she called, trying to pour as much strength and confidence into her voice as she could muster. She closed her eyes briefly against the gasps and murmurs that followed her introduction. _So much for freedom,_ she thought dryly.

"Silence!" the leader demanded. Eve, her name was, if Clarke was remembering correctly. The woman had long dark hair that was braided intricately down her back and tattoos winding over her tanned skin. Clarke tried not to think about how much she resembled Octavia as the thought only served to shoot needles of pain straight through her chest. Eve seemed wary as she surveyed her, which Clarke figured was better than hostile. She found herself holding her breath, nonetheless.

"We have heard of you, Clarke of the Sky people. Your legacy with the _Tri-geda-kru_ has traveled quickly, as have the rumors that you defeated the mountain," the leader said, and her voice held a tremble of reverence despite her composed expression.

"However," she continued, "I must warn you that Commander Lexa is no friend of ours, here. We are not part of her _alliance,"_ she all but spat the last word.

"She is no friend of mine either," Clarke answered, refusing to break contact with the woman's demanding stare, or to acknowledge the strain in her heart at hearing Lexa's name. "If you have heard the stories of the Mountain, then you have heard how she betrayed me. She surrendered to the Mountain Men. She left my people to die."

Another wave of gasps and murmurs dispersed through the surrounding crowd, but Eve didn't silence them this time. Her jaw was clenched in anger, reminding Clarke again of Octavia. When she spoke, her voice wavered with emotion.

"Warriors do _not_ surrender. They fight. After what the mountain has done to our people, the commander shames herself for backing down. She forgets that _jus drein jus daun_!"

Appraised cries followed her proclamation and it surprised Clarke how much she wanted to join them. She let a small smile spread across her lips as she answered.

"I couldn't agree more."

Eve nodded as she sat back down in her chair, the crowd silencing in return.

"What brings you here, Clarke _kom sky kru_?"

Suddenly Clarke was kicking herself internally for not thinking of the answer to that question. She'd been so filled with hope and desperation that she hadn't thought ahead of simply _arriving._ How could she explain that she had left her own people? Would they see it as weakness, as a betrayal?

But as she looked around, she found curious gazes looking back at her, waiting for her to reply. No one was looking like they wanted to kill her, or even like they feared her. What she saw in their eyes was respect more than anything, and maybe even sympathy. If she was seeking safety, seeking a new home within this community, maybe honesty was the best policy.

"My people, the sky people, are safe now," she began. "I got them out of the mountain alive. But I had to kill everyone in the mountain to do it. Even innocents. Even children," she stated, and couldn't help but look down at the ground for a moment, trying to regain her strength. She could feel the crowd waiting with bated breath for her to continue.

"I did what I had to do for my people, but I couldn't stay with them," she offered. It was all she could do. She met the intense gaze of the leader and was relieved to find her expression was softer.

After a moment Eve spoke, her voice ringing clearly across the silent gathering.

"A warrior must be strong in battle. But war changes even the strongest of us. You have earned a respectful reputation here, Clarke of the Sky people. You are welcome to stay, if you'd like."

Relief washed over her so strongly that she couldn't help but grin widely. The leader returned her smile.

"Amia will show you around," she said as she rose from her chair. She gave Clarke a small nod before retreating to the large tent behind her.

A young girl approached her, carrying a heavy basket in her arms. Her hair was the kind of black that almost looked blue and pieces fell from the tie that held it at the nape of her neck. She had golden brown eyes and a splash of freckles across her nose that made Clarke's heart clench as familiar ones flashed in her memory, but she swallowed her pain and smiled brightly instead.

"Hello," the girl started tentatively as she shifted the basket to her hip with obvious struggle.

"Can I carry this for you?" Clarke offered, gesturing towards the basket.

The young girl looked ready to argue for a moment but seemingly decided against it as she passed the container to Clarke with a small smile.

"It is my supplies that I gathered this morning for the healer's tent. We will drop it there first before I show you the rest of our home," she spoke with a thick accent to her English that told Clarke she wasn't one of the warriors that learned it from birth.

"So you're a healer?" Clarke asked. Amia nodded.

"Yes, me and two others – Gabriel and Owen,"

Clarke nodded as she listened. "I was a healer with my people too, before I was… anything else," Clarke explained. "I'm happy to help in any way I can."

Amia met her eyes and smiled. "I'm sure that would be appreciated, Clarke of the Sky people,"

"Just Clarke is fine," she answered, making her new friend grin in response.

By the end of the day, Clarke was dead on her feet but maybe also almost happy. Lighter, at least. She felt more relaxed than she could ever remember feeling before, the weight of the world seemed less crushing. She'd met almost everyone in camp, people who told her stories and made her laugh. Everyone was so welcoming, so different than the Grounders she had come to know.

Maybe it was because of their isolation. Their little village was set next to the sea, away from the rest of the world. With the salty breeze and the constant view of the glimmering ocean, Clarke imagined it would take a lot to feel anything but wonder in a place like this. A ball of hope was blooming in her chest and she welcomed it for the first time.

It wasn't until she was alone in her new tent that she felt something else in her chest: a hole, a piece missing. The place where her mom should have been, where she should have hugged Raven back, where she wished that Octavia could forgive her. A piece she left behind when she left Bellamy.

Tears welled up in Clarke's eyes, blurring her vision as her breath quickened. What if she never saw them again? She started to pace her tent, her heart racing as she ran her shaking fingers through her hair. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, all she could feel was the tightening in her chest, pulling her under, trying to drown her and she can't resurface, it's too much, it's-

"Clarke!" Amia yelled frantically, pulling her from her thoughts.

She jumped and looked up at the frightened girl with wide eyes.

"Are you okay?" Amia asked, taking a tentative step towards her. Clarke wiped the tears she didn't realize were running down her face and gave the girl a shaky smile.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I'm good really," Clarke assured her, but Amia didn't seem convinced.

"You miss your people," she said. It wasn't a question, but Clarke nodded anyway. Amia gave her a small smile.

"I understand. I thought you might feel that way. That is why I came here," Amia explained softly. Then suddenly the girl grinned wickedly, her eyes lighting up with excitement, and it was so different than the nervous girl Clarke had spent the day with that she was taken aback. It wasn't until then that she realized Amia's change of clothes. She was wearing tight black jeans rather than the cloth skirt she'd had on earlier, and her blue gray shirt was tied back to reveal the smooth skin of her stomach, as well as the tattoos imprinted on her hips. Her hair was down and she'd shedded her jacket. Her enthusiasm came off of her in waves and Clarke couldn't help but let it intoxicate her as she returned Amia's smile.

"You have lived with us during the day. It is time for you to experience the night,"

For the tree people, experiencing the night had been feasting after a day of training, always focused on the next battle.

For the sky people, it was Monty's moonshine, trying to forget the battle.

Here, with the ocean people, there were no battles.

The night consists of gathering around a campfire on the beach. A surprised yelp escaped Clarke when she saw that the fire was blue and green rather than orange.

"The salt from the sea," one man explained with a grin.

Someone beat a drum while others danced and Clarke immediately saw that their dances were intimate and sensual, comprised of swaying hips and soft touches. Amia ran ahead of her directly into the arms of one of the other healers- Gabriel, she remembers- who gripped her so tightly he lifted her small feet off the ground. Clarke couldn't bear to watch, turning instead to observe a small group of people who ran into the shallow water with their pants rolled up to their knees as they splashed and giggled.

It takes her breath away, the thought of running into the ocean _._ She hadn't ever thought of it as a possibility, but now she immediately knows that it's something she wants to do.

Suddenly, a woman diverged from the crowd around the fire and came to stand next to Clarke.

"Come, I will show you," the woman laughed, holding her hand out and nodding towards the water. It seemed crazy, she thought, to grab hands with this stranger and run into the ocean, a place she spent her whole life believing she would never see, a place probably filled with radiation and man eating monsters. If Bellamy were here he would grab her arm, pull her back, tell her it isn't safe.

But he isn't.

 _This is what you wanted_ , she tells herself. _You wanted to be free._

So Clarke shucked her jacket and her shoes before she grabbed the woman's hand.

"Lead the way," she grinned, intoxicated by the absurdity of it all. She allowed herself to be pulled along across the sand, which was cool and abrasive against her feet, not at all like she imagined it would be. They were gaining on the black waves when the woman yelled something Clarke didn't understand, gaining the attention of the group already in the water. They turned towards them and laughed as they separated to make room for the couple.

It's at the last moment, as they reached the shoreline, that Clarke realized her new friend had no intention of slowing down. There would be no tentative toe dips on this swim. With a combination of fear and excitement, she inhaled a deep breath and held it just in time to be flung into the sea.

The first thing she realized was that everything she'd ever been told about warm ocean waters was absolutely false; the water was _freezing._ It awakened her to her very core and when she surfaced a moment later, gasping with her hair plastered to her neck, her skin immediately turned to gooseflesh. She wiped the salt water out of her eyes only to find ten pairs gazing back at her, surveying her to see how the sky girl would react to her first swim.

To her own surprise, a giggle escaped her, bubbling up through her throat and past her lips. The others joined her and she laughed until she couldn't breath, until her cheeks hurt from being stretched so far. The feeling was so unfamiliar, so carefree as it released all the tension from her chest, and it's all she wants to feel for the rest of her life.

A warm hand pressed against her waist and Clarke jumped, only to find the woman who'd dragged her into the water. When she spoke, it was nothing more than a whisper in her ear.

"I am glad you are enjoying yourself, Clarke of the Sky people,"

Clarke turned her head and almost bumped into the women's lips.

"It's just Clarke," she corrected quietly, unable to tear away from the women's deep gaze. The intimate interaction was all it took for the remnants of happiness to escape her, leaving her once again empty aside from the pain.

Memories burned white hot through her mind.

" _I love you. I'm in love with you,"_

" _All that matters is that you forgive me,"_

" _I do care, Clarke, but I made this decision with my head and not with my heart."_

When they finally stopped, landing on Bellamy's tear filled gaze and a whispered, "please come inside," Clarke gasped and pulled away, desperately trying to steady herself. All she could feel was the ragged hole in her chest as her heart broke even further and what she recognized as regret began flooding through her.

 _How could she just leave them?_

 _How could he ever forgive her?_

When Clarke finally dragged her tear filled gaze up she was met with wide eyes looking back at her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the mystery woman offered softly. "My name is Scarla,"

Clarke forced a quick smile in the hopes that Scarla wouldn't think she was completely insane, but unable to hold it she quickly trudged through the water and back to the beach, leaving the others to watch her go and wonder what had caused such sudden change in the sky girl.

It was hours later, after Clarke had had copious amounts of wine that she walked alone along the water's edge, letting her bare feet take in the new sensations of the spongy sand. She let the tears flow freely as her mind wandered to Jasper. She knew from experience that he would be forever plagued by Maya dying in his arms, and he would never stop blaming her for it. She thought about the way Monty had hugged her goodbye and she hoped that Raven and Octavia had both found some peace and comfort now that they were home and safe.

For now, the tears were more cathartic than overwhelming, which is why she rapidly pushed her thoughts away from Bellamy every time they appeared; Thinking of him hurt the most.

A scuffle a few yards ahead broke Clarke from her thoughts. She looked around to find she was far from the campfire where several people still sat on logs, drinking and laughing. Turning back towards the noise, she inched forward cautiously until the culprits came into focus. It was a handful of people, many of whom had been in the water with her earlier, including Scarla. They were huddled in a circle, whispering excitedly around what Clarke finally saw was a small boat.

She watched the scene for a moment before Scarla caught her eye.

"Clarke!" she called with an easy grin. "Have you come to join us?"

"Join you?" she asked.

"Yes," the woman replied. "We are going on a journey,"

"Please come," said a man standing next to Scarla. Clarke didn't recognize him. He must have been able to tell when she immediately opened her mouth that she planned to refuse them because he spoke again before she had the chance, a smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth.

"What have you got to lose?"

Clarke would have laughed if the truth of the statement didn't weigh so heavily, so accurately.

"Where are you going?" she finally asked.

This time Scarla answered with excitement shining in her eyes.

"We are going to the City of Light,"


	2. Chapter 2

Bellamy couldn't decide which was worse: the nights or the days.

During the days at least he was busy, watching over guard training, hunting, coordinating scouting teams and watch shifts, checking in with Jasper and Raven to see how they were holding up, doing everything he promised to do.

 _Take care of them for me._

But he was alone. More than alone, really, because he knew what it was like _not_ to be alone, to have someone to share all this with, someone to help him shoulder the burden. And it was her absence that screamed so loudly everywhere he turned. When he helped a limping kid into the med bay and found no blonde waves meeting him at the door, or when he barked orders and felt no hand on his arm to temper him; her absence was what made the days unbearable.

That was until the night came, when the sky darkened and everyone began to either relax or head to bed and he realizes that everything that had seemed so heavy during the day was the only thing he had to keep him from falling apart and without it, he feels so empty he can barely breathe.

So, desperately, Bellamy heads to the makeshift bar and grabs a drink. No one questions him, although he doesn't miss their wary glances. Everyone respects him but a lot of that respect comes paired with fear. He sits down alone in one of the chairs that Raven and Wick put together from scrap metal as he tosses back his drink. He knows he should wallow in his private quarters, that if Clarke were here she would tell him not to let their people see him like this.

 _But she's not,_ he thinks bitterly, before sighing and dropping his head into his hands. He's not mad at her, he understands why she had to go. But it doesn't change the fact that he doesn't know how to do this without her, and he doesn't want to.

He should've told her he needed her, even if it was selfish. He shouldn't have just let her walk away.

It isn't until his breath begins to quicken that he is prompted to pick up the bottle and head to his room. By the time he reaches it, his heart is racing out of control and he can barely breathe. The feeling is familiar; It happens almost every night when he finds his hands empty and looks out to find Octavia wrapped in Lincoln's arms and he realizes how completely alone he really is. A piece of him is missing and its not _fair._

"Goddamnit!" he growls in frustration and before he knows it the bottle has flung from his hand to the wall, where it shatters and spills into pieces. He stands, chest heaving, as he watches the liquid slip down the metal wall in rivulets.

Okay, maybe he's a little mad at her.

A knock on the door finally pulls him from his thoughts.

"Come on in!" he yells, tearing his tear filled eyes away from the alcohol and fixing them into a hard glare to meet whomever dared to interrupt him.

A girl from his past days- Olivia, he remembers- inches in shyly and peeks up at him from beneath her dark lashes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she says, and she sounds a lot more coy than apologetic. He wonders how he never noticed the false sweetness in her voice before.

"I just saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were okay."

Bellamy's eyes soften a little, but that's all he can offer.

"I'm fine, thanks," he replies shortly.

But Olivia only grins, and he remembers that she had liked this side of him, in the beginning. She saunters towards him and places a hand gently on his chest, causing him to suck in a sharp breath.

"I can help you, you know," she smiles softly, her playful eyes leaving no question of her intentions.

Bellamy takes in her dark, straight hair and her olive skin. Her eyes are hazel like his and so different from the ones he's always thinking about that he wonders if maybe this is just what he needs.

So he takes a step forward, and places a tentative hand on her hip. Apparently, it's all the encouragement she needs because she surges forward and kisses him, digging her hand in his hair at the nape of his neck.

He groans and kisses her back, covering her lips with his roughly, unapologetically, because he is in no position to make love. He backs her into the wall and feels her smirk beneath him as she slams into it and he almost finds himself smiling back.

It feels good to kiss her and he wishes it could just be this easy. That he could fuck his way to forgetting about Clarke. But reality quickly sets in and tells him it won't be as his chest tightens and all he can think about when he wraps his arms around Olivia's slim waist are curves he only got to feel twice, in desperate but fully clothed hugs.

It's the moment she begins to kiss down his neck and finally presses her lips to his shoulder that he gasps and pulls back, because that spot has been on fire from another pair of lips for weeks.

Bellamy closes his eyes against Olivia's questioning gaze and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

"You know, I'm really tired," he mumbles, and he knows exactly how lame it sounds. "I'm just gonna head to bed,"

When he finally looks back at her she's watching him sadly, and it'd be patronizing if it wasn't so deserving. She opens her mouth, then closes it again, struggling with what she wants to say. Apparently, she decides on honesty.

"Bellamy, she isn't coming back."

He wishes she hadn't.

When his eyes harden and he looks away, clenching his jaw, she takes that as her cue to leave, closing the door gently behind her.

Bellamy's already scarce amount of sleep was cut even shorter by a shouted "Hey, get up!" above him. He threw his arm over his eyes, trying to postpone both the morning and the pounding headache that loomed behind his eyes.

"Knock much, Raven?" he snapped, but she just snorted.

"Sorry, Sleeping Beauty, Abby wants to talk to you," she replied, the amusement evident in her voice.

"Of course she does," he grumbled, but sat up and pulled a shirt and shoes on nonetheless.

"Rough night?" she asks, although it doesn't really sound like a question as her eyes survey the broken glass that he hadn't yet picked up. Apparently, his answering glare tell her he doesn't want to talk because she simply nods her head is gone before he's rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Suppressing the familiar loneliness in his chest, Bellamy set off to see what bad news Abby had for him this time.

It was the last thing he'd ever expected.

"We've received a message," Abby said as she handed him one of the two tablets that had been salvaged from one of the other fallen stations.

"From who?" he asked and immediately knew he failed at trying not to sound hopeful. The sadness he found mirrored in Abby's eyes let him know it wasn't who he wanted to hear from.

"Jaha," she answered softly.

Definitely not who he wanted to hear from.

Still, curiosity got the best of him. How had the former chancellor sent them a digital message? The tablets had so far only been used for informational purposes; not even Sinclair could make them work for communication.

As soon as Bellamy opened the message, a video started playing. A clean shaven, fresh faced Jaha stared back at him.

"Dear friends. I can only hope this reaches you. I have good news. I have reached the City of Light. As I promised, I have found a place that can be safe for us, a place we can call home. I have faith that you will join me. I crossed the Dead Zone, and a body of water that I believe may have been the ocean to reach it. You must head North. If you can cross the Dead Zone, there will be guidance for you from there.

However, I must warn you. The Dead Zone is dangerous. We faced brutal challenges on our journey, and I am sad to say that I'm the only one that made it. You must be prepared for the harsh travel: bring plenty of water and as much food as you possibly can. I have faith that you will find me, and join me in this place. May we meet again."

With that, the video ended and Bellamy had to suppress a snort. That man was so self righteous it was overwhelming. However, he kept his composure when he looked back up at Abby and Kane, who had joined them.

"Well?" Kane asked calmly and Bellamy almost looked around to see who he was talking to. Ever since the return from Mount Weather, many people he never expected to even view him as an equal looked to him for authority; it would take some getting used to.

"Well, what? Are you actually taking this seriously? You know this guy is a nutjob, don't you?"

He saw the familiar fire start up in Abby's eyes and _god,_ if that didn't remind him of someone else. He pushed the throbbing in his heart away and turned to Kane's patient smile instead.

"Jaha may be willing to go to extremes, but he is a good leader. I trust him," Kane explained and this time it really took all Bellamy had not to roll his eyes.

"Well, excuse me if I don't," he snapped. He saw Abby's jaw clench out of the corner of his eye. "Why would we risk people dying when we're safe here?"

"But maybe it's time to be more than _safe,_ " Abby retorted as she took a step towards him. "And how long will we be safe? How long before the grounders change their mind about leaving us alone, or before some other unknown threat attacks us? Thelonious said we could have a _home_ there! I think it's worth talking about,"

Bellamy scoffed and shook his head, forcing himself to tear away from Abby's sharp gaze.

"This is crazy," Bellamy stated, but even he could hear the defeat in his voice. He didn't want to admit that Abby was right but she had a point.

"I know, son. But it might just be worth it,"

Damn it. Even if it was, there was no way Bellamy was dragging all their people through the desert if they didn't even know what was on the other side. Someone had to go first, someone had to verify that it was safe and that this "city of light" wasn't just some delusion that Jaha had created.

And there was a small part of him that liked the idea of a journey. The part of his heart that was still selfish and just wanted to get the hell away.

"I don't trust him," Bellamy finally stated after several long moments. "If we're gonna do this, we're not just gonna drag everyone along. We send a scout first, someone to verify that this is worthwhile,"

Kane seemed to survey for a moment before he spoke. "You can't go alone," he said, and it pissed Bellamy off even more that Kane seemed to think he knew him so well.

"If Jaha can make it, so can I. I'm not putting other lives at risk," he answered sharply. _Besides, I'm already alone,_ he thought.

And with that, Bellamy turned on his heel and walked out. He was done listening. He would do things his way, and if Kane and Abby didn't like it, then that wasn't his problem. Relief washed over him as he headed back to his room to gather supplies. A journey was just what he needed. A journey to the City of Light.


End file.
